I am the kind of pastor that doesn’t shy away from picking hymns that are, by any reasonable standard, hard to sing. This coming Sunday will feature my favorite Reformation hymn “O God, O Lord, of Heaven and Earth.” If you know, you know. If you don’t, go listen to it. Hard to sing is an understatement. 

Jan Bender composed the tune and my favorite Lutheran theologian named Martin, Martin Franzmann, penned the words to celebrate the 450th anniversary of the Reformation. While perhaps their most famous collaboration, it is not their only one, nor is it the only one that is hard to sing.

In his book (referenced below) Robin Leaver tells the following story. Bender was a composition student of Hugo Distler, a composer who lived in the early part of the 20th century. In 1934, after the annexation of Austria, the Third Reich compelled Distler to compose a marching tune. Although uninterested in the work, he did so under duress. In 1942 Distler, for a variety of reasons not unrelated to the societal and theological pressures of the time, took his own life. Bender carried the tune in his head for decades until he found a man who could put lyrics to it—enter my favorite Martin. 

The hymn itself is hard to sing for those of us whose voices are not trained. The lyrics, however, sing themselves in this moment of societal and theological pressure. 

Weary of all trumpeting
Weary of all killing,
Weary of all songs that sing
Promise, nonfulfilling.
We would raise, O Christ, one song:
We would join in singing
That great music pure and strong,

Wherewith Heav’n is ringing.

Captain Christ, O lowly Lord,
Servant King, Your dying
Bade us sheathe the foolish sword,
Bade us cease denying. 
Trumpet with your Spirit’s breath
Through each height and hollow:
Into Your self-giving death,
Call us all to follow.

To the triumph of Your cross
Summon all men living;
Summon us to live by loss,
Gaining all by giving.
Suff’ring all, that men may see
Triumph in surrender;
Leaving all, that we may be
Partners in Your splendor. 

Copyright 1972 Chantry Press, Springfield, OH

Many of us are just that, weary. We are weary of seeing the latest bit of breaking news that scrolls across the feed or headlines the evening news. We are weary of listening to bombastic voices on every side that dehumanize people made in the image of God. We are weary of fearing what may happen to us, to those we love, to those we know, to those we don’t know, to those whose life God sent His Son to die for. We are weary of all, yes all, trumpeting.

I need this hymn, whether or not it is hard to sing, because the times in which we sing are hard. They are times that trumpet all sorts of songs of triumph that when compared to the scriptural proclamation of Christ and his cross are anything but. This hymn calls me, calls all who are weary, to that cross and the Christ who hangs upon it. His way was not one of pomposity but humility, not of assertiveness but meekness. The cross calls us to surrender who we are, our ideals, our conceptions of power and authority, and see the gain that comes from loss, the strength in weakness, the triumph in suffering. Leaving ourselves behind, we become partners with those who draw breath in this world, partners with the one who gave up his breath on a cross and breathed out his Spirit upon those who saw him eclipse death. 

We may be weary, but we are not alone. Our weary and meek Lord walked this road before us. Leave it all, partner with him. Live by loss, gain by giving. Into His self-giving death we follow, not just to receive forgiveness, life, and salvation but to become those who partner with him as he hallows his name above all others, as he brings his kingdom, as he does on earth what is done in heaven. We may be weary of all trumpeting because of how hard it is to sing right now, but his song is one that calls us us to follow the Servant King whose sword is sheathed, whose reputation is reliable, whose promise always fulfills. 

Robin Leaver, Come to the Feast: The Original and Translated Hymns of Martin H. Franzmann (St. Louis: MorningStar Music Publisher, 1994), 81, 112.